By Heather B. Thomas, © 2006
Part 1
There was this boy in high school that watched her during math class. He didn't speak much, but was always watching with open eyes. She didn't think much about it at the time, just laughed it off because they'd been in school together since the sixth grade.
His name was Matt, Matthew to his mother, and he was just a boy. Member of her father's boy scout troop, swimmer and water polo player extraordinaire – desired by the girls in high school, envied by the guys for his coolness. Little did they know it wasn't cool it was just clueless ness.
Her junior year he began to look at her as more than friends. She used to wear a white sleeveless shell, slightly sheer, and light enough to show through to the lace top bra she always wore with it. Tasteful yet seductive at the same time, she never gave much thought to what he might be thinking when he saw her wearing it.
That year he sat next to her in Trigonometry and he started to complain very loudly when she wore that shirt.
He'd say, "I can't believe your father let you out of the house like that – maybe I should give him a call."
"Be my guest," she replied. "He saw me at breakfast and didn't say a thing."
"I can see your bra!" he continued.
"If it bothers you – stop looking," she replied and went back to copying math problems off the board.
He'd then glare at her and turn away. It became a test every time she wore that shirt to see if he'd react.
Part 2
Hey babe, I was trying to go to bed three hours ago, but I got the idea to do some packing so I'm still not asleep.
I have no idea if I'll end up sending this to you not, I could just end up adding this to the pile of letters I've never mailed (just like you!).
I had a dream about you last night, but I'm not going to tell you what it was about. Let's just say that I miss you and was sad to wake up and find that you really aren't here.
So what do we think we're doing? Ignoring the situation at hand or just deliberately post poning the inevitable? Or I'm reading more into the situation than is really there? Well from my stand point I hope that the feelings I feel for you are the same you have for me. I just get such a crazy feeling anytime I think of that night I spent with you at the beach before Christmas, as if I'm looking into what the future could be. I'll admit, we do need to get to know each other again, after all we haven't really spent any real time with each other in the past five years.
But, I'll be the first to admit that I never got over you. You've always been in my mind, deep deep down and that feeling's been hidden inside my heart too. I'll admit it. It just seemed like a dream to year you say that you still cared for me after all these years and all the horrible and stupid things I've done.
The question I have to ask is why? Why do you still care? Because we grew up together? Because we've been friends for so many years or for some other reason? As always I pray and wish for the best and constantly, consistently, expect the worst. I feel uncertain and scared because I don't know. I'm waiting but I don't really know what for. I haven't dated anyone for months as I can't seem to get you out of my mind. But what am I waiting for? Do you want me to wait? I've already been and you haven't even said anything to me.
It's just hard for me to hear second hand comments from home that you keep talking about me, but not to me - as if something is all ready made up in your mind you've taken it for granted that I know what's going on. Well I don't.
Do we wait for fate to make its move? Do we need to talk? Christmas with you seemed too perfect, too good to be true, and made me wonder what I've ever done to deserve to feel so happy for the short time we were together. Let me know...I miss you, come home soon. Love and hugs.
Part 3
The snow was just beginning to fall as the sun set on this crisp March evening. The temperature was a crisp 27'F and she made herself some hot apple cider topping her drink off with a little Amaretto. She sighed as she looked out the kitchen window down the mountain and wondered just what she was doing living up here.
Just the other day part of her road had washed away because of excessive rain fall. The season had hit an all time record at 10" in a little over eight hours, almost an inch an hour. She looked around the kitchen at stacks of dirty dishes in the sink, left-overs still on the counter from last nights scouraging at midnight, knew what she needed to be doing at this moment but knew what she wanted to be doing instead and it was out of the question.
Besides, she knew he would be busy and it was an awfully long drive just find out he wasn't even home. She went back to her room and snuggled deep under the down comforter letting the effects of the warm drink and the alcohol relax her aching body. Her last thoughts were that she wished the pain would go away, that somehow she would wake in the morning and find out that it was all a lie...
There she was again, the little dream child with the strawberry curls and milky white skin. She was on the beach still, this time picking up sea glass in shades of topaz, amethyst and jade, placing each peace in her pocket as gently as if they were Robin's eggs.
Part 4
The truth of the matter is that there are those few who claim to be realists when in fact they themselves are those who run from reality, from the ever present fact that their life does go on though they choose to "live" alternatively.
The truth is, that those who truly are realists are the ones who will in the long run survive. They are the ones who will be made strong. The others claim to be knowledgeable but in fact, are hiding and not "finding themselves". By just going with the flow, are loosing something.
Each time I go out and make a choice with the reality of a situation, I am making myself better. Each time I say that I am making a decision because I know there is more out there I am making myself stronger. And likewise if I were to choose to do something because that's "just how life is" or because that's "the way things are" I weaken myself and as an end result, loose something of myself in the process.
I am better. I have won in this scenario because I knew what I wanted, did what it took, achieved my goal, and have progressed beyond that to the next scene while those about me are still trying to figure out what is going on.
Matty - you claim you have no idea what's going on, that I have no idea what's going on, and that your neighbor has no idea what's going on...wrong. I do. I knew what I wanted, fulfilled the need, and moved on.
Friendship, what an odd word coming from you, but that's the key word here. No more, no less. That's why I can move on. That's why I felt no embarrassment at the situation that happened out front. That's why I can go on and find pathetic, humorous irony in the situation.
I am not the one who asked for an explanation. I'm not the one that felt the inwardly driven desire to create an explanation to pacify one's own ethical judgments in the mind. I'm not the one who ran home and hid. I'm not the one who had to get stoned to get past the inward screaming of the mind.
Get a grip. I'm not the one who's out of control and maybe that's the problem, because I have found control and you have yet to do that. This is yours to think about, to mull over, interpret, absorb or toss out as you choose. I'm just the friend here, remember that.
Part 5
To think that all these years I've been feeling guilty for a slight carnal sin and you being the boy you are, let me. And there you sat once again, on Friday night, trying to get me to believe that you're not the bad guy, that you've done nothing wrong, that perhaps by chance I might believe this was all in my head and I was putting words in your mouth?
My parents in all their moral wisdom taught me to never write anything down unless I truly meant every word. To that I agree whole heartedly so...to hell with you. You my "friend" have blown it. You are in the wrong my dear and don't try to switch the roles around again and attempt to be calm. I am calm and I am rational at the moment.
What a line you fed me. I ate it up, and you reeled me in. Friends, the two of us just friends. In who's lifetime I'd like to know, certainly not ours. What a laugh. Our relationship has not been platonic in years and you now it. Remember, I tried that two years ago and you had other ideas. It was carnal ideas going through my mind that made me lie to you at Thanksgiving. Good grief, who in their right mind has to work then? Get real. Yet I feel no remorse at all, not one bit as my self preservation is top on the list these days.
I sat there and poured out my heart and soul to you at Christmas. You forget? Here, let me refresh your memory. Do you know how it feels to be held powerless barely being able to move and certainly not being able to cry for help as you're raped by an ex...one of your best friends? Do you know how to cover up bruises and scrapes with make-up so the world wont see your shame, your pain? Do you know how it feels to have someone say they love you, would move the world for you, die before they let anyone harm you, and they themselves turn around and destroy your soul with mental jabs of inadequacy, inability, and shame? Do you know the euphoric feeling one gets as the body slowly disintegrates from starvation? Have you ever seen the hollow eyes, sickly yellow skin, and the bones, the crisp and pointy bones protruding where muscle and flesh used to be? Have you ever felt just how hard a lecture hall chair can be when you don't even have enough padding on your body to sleep through the night on a feather bed, let alone sit on a hard piece of wood?
If by any slim chance you feel that you know anything about these things, you have my blessings to say your heart is breaking. That I did that to you. But until then no. Go ahead, take your inconsequential "relationship" of a few months over a twelve year friendship which by the way, was more. Have another unaccountable tryst. And don't try and damn me for my words now. I may have done some things wrong, but no one deserves the pain that I have been handed these past few years.
So from now on you too will be added to my list, the one of pity. Pity for those who can't face reality and run from their words, denying what is out there. Don't expect me to understand some sorrowful excuse or change of tone, its too late. The friendship is gone. At this moment, I have more respect for the common thief than I do for you. At least he is honest.
In my mind you're no better. And so the list goes on: He the one who raped me, He the fiancée that abused me, Anorexia the disease that would have killed me, and You...how should we label you?
~ THE END ~
Heather B. Thomas, © 2006 No part may be copied, printed or duplicated without express permission of the author.
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